A tui flits across the fairway, a cooler breeze rustles through the gum trees. I’m not dressed for the drop in temperature.

As part of my mission to get the full naturist experience at the club – motto: Stay a while, we’ve got nothing on – it’s all or nothing. I choose nothing.

Camaraderie is a key benefit of the club, members say. Virginia Woolfe

Walking with me on the rolling fairways of the club’s pitch-and-putt nine-hole golf course are secretary Lorraine, wearing just a leopard-print head scarf and a gold chain necklace, vice-president Andrew, in a hat and sandals; committee member Geoff in a floppy hat and red t-shirt and president Russell, positively overdressed in an akubra-style hat and floral shirt.

Not a pair of pants in sight. I’m equipped with only a pen and notepad, which subconsciously moves south towards areas that have not seen the sun in a while. It takes an effort to keep writing.

It takes an effort not to chicken out of the whole thing. Fifty-plus years of conditioning that you wear clothes in the outdoors, especially in company, is a hard thing to shrug off. Continued…Read full original article…

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